[Following him.] Constantius is dying by inches; he hangs by a hair over the grave. Oh, my beloved Julian, you have the soldiers on your side——
Julian.
No more, no more!
Helena.
He can bear no agitation. What is there, then, to recoil from? I mean nothing bloody. Fie, how can you think so? The terror will be enough; it will fold him in its embrace and gently end his sufferings.
Julian.
Do you forget the invisible bodyguard around the Lord’s anointed?
Helena.
Christ is good. Oh, be pious, Julian, and He will forgive much. I will help. Prayers shall go up for you. Praised be the saints! Praised be the martyrs! Trust me, we will atone for everything later. Give me the Alemanni to convert; I will send out priests among them; they shall bow under the mercy of the cross.
Julian.